If Only I Had Tried Harder
by DarthRuinous
Summary: Anakin has returned to Coruscant after the Battle of Geonosis and meets with an old friend. Dark secrets surface in the resulting conversation. Missing scene.


o

He cut off your arm, and you wanted revenge. It wasn't the first time, Anakin. _Remember what you told me about your mother and the Sand People – Palpatine __(ROTS)_

If Only I Had Tried Harder

The Chancellor's office was unusually quiet this evening. Only the hum of the steady traffic streams outside the elongated window and the soft rasping breath of the young human crumpled in a chair before the desk could be heard. The young man, still nearly a boy, was a Jedi padawan in dark brown robes, his sandy, short-cropped hair poking out between his metallic and flesh fingers as he cradled his head in his hands. He remained bent over, unwilling to meet the soft gaze of the room's only other inhabitant.

This man was the elder, once-red hair mostly replaced by a refined gray that swept back from his temples. His arms, encased in voluminous sleeves, were draped across the wide desk and his left hand was twisting slowly in his right in subtle distress. Following the boy's every huddled shake, the pale blue eyes were wide with sympathetic concern.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had allowed no one into his office tonight when he learned that Anakin Skywalker had recovered sufficiently from Geonosis to visit. And it pleased him to no insignificant end that the teenage padawan had sought him out almost immediately upon being released from the hospital ward of the Temple.

In fact, he had sent his personal speeder and escort to bring the boy to him. Mas Amedda and Sly Moore had protested weakly, arguing that he had an important meeting with the Corellian Trade Syndicate. The potential profits from such a deal could stretch into billions of credits, they cajoled.

Anakin Skywalker was priceless.

The discrepancy in his time table was not difficult to solve: the Corellians were greeted by his vexed aides and carted away to a luxurious dining establishment near the Galaxies Opera House. He was certain their indignant complaints would disappear in light of an open menu.

Just as he was certain that Anakin's troubles would soon surface. Something dark swirled behind the boy's normally bright blue eyes. Even without the use of the Dark Side, he sensed impressive amounts of frustration, a small bit of pain, and an intriguing level of shame. Anakin had stepped tentatively into his office when he arrived, refusing to meet the Chancellor's smiling face as he bowed low.

Palpatine had not questioned the new hesitation. Instead, he gently wrapped an arm around the taller human's shoulders and guided him to the chairs in front of his desk. Anakin fell into the seat, spiritless, blackened, and the Chancellor passed him a tall glass of Sullustan wine. Anakin barely looked at it before tilting the contents down his throat. He swallowed convulsively and set the glass heavily on the desk, glowering into the shiny surface. Palpatine patiently waited.

The dialogue had been slow in coming. The Chancellor inquired about the Jedi's arm. The Jedi mumbled that he was becoming accustomed to the new electronics, but the hand sometimes misfired. Bugs in the system…always a problem with startup. Silence fell between them, and Palpatine discerned that the hand was the least of Anakin's current woes.

He had watched the boy's face closely when inquiring after Senator Amidala's health. Anakin's face crumpled in on itself in a fascinating display of simultaneous joy and sorrow. Palpatine thought back to the security feed that Dooku had shown him, footage of the two lovers exchanging a furtive kiss before the deadly games began. So she had not entirely rejected him.

The turmoil there was intense, but it was not the source of Anakin's unnatural behavior with the Chancellor. He was nurturing guilt of some sort. Palpatine gently prodded him with praise for going to his master's aid and found that Anakin did not regret his decision to defy the Council and leave Tatooine. All well and good, but what did that leave?

Tatooine…Anakin's last living relations. His mother. According to the last intelligence on the woman, Palpatine knew she had been sold to a moisture farmer on the outskirts of the city. And there Palpatine had expected her to live out her days in ignorant obscurity. Surely the Jedi would never allow Anakin to seek her out; they showed little compassion when the issue of family arose. Had Anakin somehow bypassed the Temple code and tracked her down? And if so, why was she not mentioned? Why was Anakin not glowing with happiness?

Because she was dead. Palpatine realized it with startling clarity. Something dark had occurred. Anakin's mother was dead, and Anakin's fear and sorrow and guilt revolved around the fact. How, he meant to discover. His inquiries had begun innocently enough, as they always did.

"Tatooine…that was your mother's homeworld, yes?" he had asked softly as Anakin downed a second glass of wine.

Anakin had stared at him across the desk. "No, no, she didn't have a homeworld. She…_was… _a slave." And then he slipped down, dropping into a huddled, bony mass in the chair, leaving the Chancellor to contemplate the broken form.

Now in the present, here they sat, both waiting the other out. Palpatine broke the stalemate, untangling his hands and rising from his place behind the desk. Coming to the chair beside the padawan, he sat down slowly and reached for the boy's shoulder. "Anakin. I am sorry, my dear boy. What has _happened_ to you?"

One bleary blue eye peeked out between the fingers, then Anakin straightened. Tears were gathered in the corners of both eyes. "No, I should apologize, Chancellor. I didn't mean to lose control like that. It's not your fault. You have so many more important things to do than listen to me whine…"

Palpatine leaned closer and lied through his teeth. "Anakin, you do not whine. And I do not have anything better to do than tend to a dear friend. I do hate to see you in such pain, but I cannot help you without knowing what troubles you."

Anakin stared into his empty glass, then his haunted eyes rose slowly to meet Palpatine's compelling gaze. "My mother is dead, sir."

"Dead?" Palpatine breathed and sank back into his chair, silently congratulating himself. One more potential obstacle removed and judging from Anakin's state, a good push into the darkness. "Oh my…Oh, Anakin. That is terrible news! May I ask, pardon me, how she passed on?"

Anakin latched onto his sympathy like a drowning man. "She was killed." His words were sharp, short, bitter.

"Murdered?" Palpatine asked carefully.

"Yes." Anakin's eyes bored holes in the Chancellor's desk.

Palpatine leaned back. "My word… How horrible for you, my boy."

A tear leaked down Anakin's cheek, and he furiously wiped it away. "It is. I can't help but think of all the years we were apart. I lost all those years with her, just because I wanted to go be a Jedi and save the galaxy." Disillusionment was always painful, but Palpatine enjoyed the fact that the Jedi were the recipients this time.

Palpatine glanced away and let his tone grow distant and regretful. "If only I had tried harder…"

Anakin offered a sharp look. "What do you mean, sir?"

Palpatine's lips grew even thinner as he compressed them in a tight line. Then he spoke slowly, his words seeming to struggle against the oppressive gravity in the room. "I…when you came to Coruscant from Naboo all those years ago, I inquired about your family. The Jedi Council informed me that you had a mother back on Tatooine, still a slave. I suggested that they free her and bring her here to Coruscant."

Anakin's mouth dropped open. "What?"

Spreading his hands in a helpless motion, Palpatine shook his head. "Well, they disliked the idea for reasons we now both have heard many times, though I confess I still do not understand. Now, even less…" he trailed off, eying the Jedi.

Anakin grew rigid in his chair. "Attachment is forbidden to a Jedi, sir."

His lips lifted away from his teeth in a soft snarl, not so fierce as to frighten the boy, but to show his discontent with a ridiculous rule. "So they step back and watch others be killed. I will never understand, Anakin. I am not a Jedi like you."

Anakin's head dropped again, and he muttered, "I'm not a very good Jedi anyway, sir. Not after…"

"After?" Palpatine pressed him.

Anakin turned evasive. "It's nothing, sir."

The Chancellor reached out and lightly touched his arm, his voice lowering to an elegant whisper. The room gathered the darkness close. "Anakin, I may not be a Jedi, but it takes no Jedi skill to see that you are underplaying the truth. You can tell me anything. I will never judge you by some rigid code."

He heard a soft whimper. "You'll think I'm a monster."

Palpatine wanted to laugh at the irony, but he restrained himself admirably. If anything, his tone gentled further. "You underestimate me, Anakin. I have never seen you as anything but a dear friend. You are as a son to me, and you will _never_ be anything less. Never. I do not care what you do."

Anakin finally looked at him. "That means a lot, Chancellor. I don't know what to say."

"You need not say anything, if you like."

The offer was semantics. Anakin was already deciding to tell him. "You…won't hate me?" he asked nervously.

Palpatine waved a magnanimous hand. "That would be impossible."

The Jedi took a deep breath, and the story poured out of him in a series of halting fragments. "When we got to Tatooine, Padme and I – Senator Amidala and I – went looking for my mother. Her name was Shmi, you know… She had a name. She wasn't a slave anymore, but she went to a moisture farm and married a man there. Then, the Tusken Raiders came to the area. They kidnapped her and took her away…"

Palpatine feigned uncertainty. "Tusken Raiders?"

"Animals!" Anakin exploded, startling even Palpatine with his sudden fury, but instantly he became contrite. "I'm sorry… but they're animals! Vicious brutes who only hurt people."

Palpatine worked his mouth for a second. "I understand," he said at last.

Anakin nodded. "Anyway…I went looking for her. I found her. With them. They did horrible things to her. I can't imagine. I don't want to imagine, but it's there in my mind like a nightmare. But I'm awake." His eyes begged the Chancellor to comprehend his words, and Palpatine found it too easy.

He said nothing.

Anakin's breath shuddered. "I imagined it all that night, when I was holding her. She was dying right there in my arms. Have you ever held someone who is dying, Chancellor?"

Palpatine was surprised at the hoarseness in his own voice. "I have…"

"I loved her so much, and they killed her. So I…I…"

Eager, Palpatine leaned in. "What did you do, Anakin?"

Did he only imagine the glorious flash of yellow in those dazzling blue eyes? "I killed them."

"You killed them." He held his enthusiasm down with ruthless self control, repeating Anakin with all the excitement of a Coruscanti waiter taking an order.

Anakin's eyebrows lifted high on his head as he considered Palpatine's calm response. "All of them," he clarified.

"Not just the warriors?"

The boy's teeth ground audibly together, and he reached out to pour himself another glass of wine. "No, not just them. The women and children too. I never wanted to kill anyone so badly in my life. See? I am a terrible Jedi. Now you know why too."

_Has he told anyone else? This is marvelous! Is this what a father feels like when his son graduates? _Palpatine struggled to keep himself from shivering with delight. "How is that so terrible?"

Anakin choked on his drink. "Chancellor? I slaughtered them! I hated them! I still do."

Palpatine wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Yes, they murdered your mother."

Anakin barked out an incredulous laugh. "It was wrong! I murdered them too!" He lifted the glass to drink again.

Palpatine reached out and gently wrestled it from Anakin's grip. The flesh-and-blood hand under his own shook with a sudden spasm. "Murder?" he allowed his disbelief to radiate into the boy. "From the facts, I would call that justice, Anakin. Think about it. They kidnapped and murdered your mother. Who holds jurisdiction over these Tusken Raiders?"

Anakin snorted. "No one. Or Jabba the Hutt, which means no one."

Satisfied, he kept on, "And you are a Jedi. A peacekeeper. These raiders daily menaced the peace of Tatooine, and you brought their threat to an end. I would go so far as to say that your actions have safeguarded the lives of countless Republican civilians."

Anakin's eyes bulged. "You mean…?"

"I mean, in a right world, you would not need to hide your deed. What you did was only natural. How cruel would it be to leave Tatooine to a band of ruthless murderers? How many more mothers might have died, if not for you, Anakin?"

Anakin stared down at the desk. "I…don't know what to say, Chancellor."

"Say nothing. Only realize, this is _not_ your fault. The Tusken Raiders brought this upon themselves, and you reacted as a normal human being. You are no monster."

Anakin was visibly trembling, trying to be a good little Jedi and hold his emotions down, but he failed when he gushed out, "Thank you, sir…I appreciate your confidence in me. I will try to live up to it."

The Chancellor patted his arm. "Of that, I have no doubt. I trust you, my boy, as does our Republic."

They sat in silence, the guilt that had been rolling off Anakin now much lighter. Irritatingly, a small bit still remained, buried deep in the Jedi's subconscious. But the seed was planted, and the mind was turning. It was a start, and Palpatine was satisfied with the knowledge he had gained tonight.

The silence was interrupted by a soft alarm. Anakin coughed harshly and glanced down at the comlink on his belt. "Obi-Wan wants me back at the Temple… I should go now…" He glanced up at the older man, cautious and clearly afraid of any condemnation. "You won't…you won't tell them, will you?"

Palpatine stood from his chair and offered a hand to the boy, who took it gratefully and hauled himself up. He held Anakin's shoulders firmly and intoned, "Do not fear them, Anakin. You did what had to be done. But remember, the Jedi need not know everything in your life. You are an individual human being, not some hive insect. You judge, you live, you love. The Jedi Code will not erase your true self."

Anakin's voice lowered, "Sometimes I think you're the only one who sees the real me, who really listens."

Palpatine turned him gently and began moving him to the door. "And I am still honored to know you, Anakin. Please, do not forget that." He sighed. "This might have all been avoided had I stood my ground against the Council. I apologize, my boy. I should have tried harder."

In the doorframe, Anakin spun to face him, his expression filling with alarm. "No! Sir, it's not your fault!" he insisted. "You tried. I can't tell you how much that means to me. The Council has always been set in its ways. We can't change that."

Palpatine felt his own eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Not now, but perhaps someday we can. You will grow from this experience, Anakin. You already have. And someday, when your power has fully matured, I think they will listen to you at last. In the meantime, may the Force be with you."

Anakin bowed, wordless, grateful, and Palpatine waved him out the door, watching as the padawan disappeared into the inky blackness of the long hallway. The Chancellor padded silently back to his desk and slid into his chair, an imposing black throne in the darkened complex. The tips of his slender fingers came together in a pleased gesture.

_It is certainly with me. _

**Palpatine even creeps me out, sometimes. But I still love writing him! This is a could-be missing scene set shortly after AoTC. **

**What did you all think? **


End file.
